


a love like ours

by baecobz



Category: Produce 101 (TV), Wanna One (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Assassins & Hitmen, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Falling In Love, Love at First Sight, M/M, lapslock, royal guard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-16
Updated: 2017-12-16
Packaged: 2019-02-15 08:14:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13026933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/baecobz/pseuds/baecobz
Summary: woojin holds his friends' safety above all else; jihoon comes in looking for a job change and manages to ruin woojin's life all at once.unfortunately for him, jihoon's a little too perfect to hate forever.





	a love like ours

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Pogniscrow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pogniscrow/gifts).



as much as he loves daehwi, woojin swears that it wouldn’t kill the younger boy to relax from time to time.

“i’m too young to die!” daehwi pouts. “look at me, i’m so cute and lovable and important! i have so much to offer the world, and i haven’t even reached my full potential yet.”

“you’re not even going to die.” woojin snorts, smoothing out a crease in daehwi’s uniform. even though it was fitted just for him, daehwi’s constant dramatic gestures had a tendency to crumple the edges of his outfit. woojin finishes a final pat on daehwi’s shoulders, grin wide on his face as he steps back to give his friend a final glance-over. while the event is really little more than a meet-and-greet with some other royal officials, he knows how important it is to his friend.

when he looks closely though, there’s a tremor in daehwi’s smile that makes woojin’s own drop; he’s seen it far too many times before, and he hates that it still takes him so long to figure out when his friend is just using jokes and complaints to cover up his worries.

“you’re going to be fine. i promise. nothing’s going to happen to you.” a pause. “nothing  _ bad _ is going to happen to you. okay?”

daehwi nods along slowly, but his hesitance is still prominent in every fidget and shift.

woojin sighs, (miraculously) resisting the urge to bang his head against the wall. daehwi’s so clearly  _ not _ okay, but woojin knows better than to try and continue the conversation. for instances like this, it’s always best to just solve the original problem head-on and do whatever he can to help his friend calm down. “listen, i’ll go make another round if that’ll make you feel better, alright? now stop worrying so much. everything’s fine.”

daehwi’s only response is a reluctant pout, and woojin doesn’t even hesitate before rolling his eyes and giving the younger boy a light shove.

“calm down, princey. i’ll be right back.” he turns on his heel and jogs around the hallway, snorting when he hears daehwi’s shaky  _ be safe  _ echoing off the walls.

although part of him is tempted to just hang out by a stairway for a few minutes to fake giving the area another once-over, woojin figures that it’s not too much work, and he might as well burn some extra calories or something. (it’s not because he’d feel bad lying to daehwi. of course not, he has abs of steel for a reason and that’s all that matters. not his annoying friend’s worries. definitely not.)

he’s just about to turn back, reaching the end of the section, when he spots something out of the corner of his eye from another corridor. he makes his way over as quietly as he can, stilling when he picks out the stranger crouched by the corner.

he watches in silence, eyebrows furrowed at the huddled figure. literally everything about the scene screams  _ suspicious _ , and for a second, woojin is almost grateful for daehwi’s paranoia.

“what are you doing?” woojin blurts out finally. the stranger startles, whipping his head around to stare back at woojin with wide eyes and a careful smile.

“me?” woojin nods and pretends not to feel his heart stop when the stranger offers him a careful smile. “i’m just a maintenance guy.”

“but  _ what are you doing _ ?” woojin repeats, and he refuses to let the sparkle in the stranger’s eyes deter him. he crosses his arms over his chest, wondering why he’s always the one on duty when some creep tries to break in.

“i’m,” the stranger pauses, grimacing a little only to offer a tentative, “doing maintenance?”

“you’re hammering a lightbulb.” woojin deadpans, and the stranger has the decency to look sheepish. the lightbulb shatters, and woojin can feel himself cringe in secondhand embarrassment.

“it’s a hard job.” he offers. woojin stares. “okay, can you just pretend you didn’t see me? just continue on with your day and i’ll continue on with mine, and we can act like this never happened.”

“this is my  _ job _ ,” woojin manages, “you’re asking me to not do my job.”

“yes?” the stranger hums in response, eyes glittering under the dim lights (extremely dim, now that one of the lightbulbs had been smashed). he looks pretty and harmless and for some stupid reason, woojin is tempted to just let him go unquestioned. but he thinks about his best friend and--

“nah, fuck that. you can’t just-” woojin sputters as the stranger continues to literally  _ bat his eyelashes  _ in response, “you can’t just sit there and look pretty and expect me to let you go.”

“it usually works.” a slow pause, and then the stranger is grinning up at him and looking like everything good in the world just turned into a person, “you think i’m pretty?”

“i’m not letting you go.” woojin does everything he can to keep his voice firm, but the stranger looks at him with so much warmth that his voice tapers off in the end, diving back into uncertainty. he wants to trust the stranger, wants to turn around and pretend like he never saw anything, but he promised daehwi that he’d keep him safe. he  _ promised _ . “you’re going to have to come with me and answer a few questions.”

he reaches forward to take the stranger’s arm, only to be met with a handful of thin air as the stranger  _ bolts _ . woojin barely has a second to think before he’s sprinting after him, muttering swears under his breath that donghyun would definitely chide him for if he heard them.

“can you slow down?” woojin coughs out after turning around what must’ve been the twentieth corner. while he knows the castle like the back of his hand (maybe even better than that, considering that he doesn’t really know what the back of his hand looks like), the stranger is constantly twisting around corridors and making woojin’s head spin.

the stranger doesn’t so much as spare woojin a second glance, but his laugh echoes off the floor and woojin tries not to trip over the sound.

(he fails.)

it’s not even a minute later until woojin’s chest is heaving, feet slamming against the marble flooring as he tries desperately to shorten the distance between himself and the intruder. how they’ve somehow avoided any other guards is beyond him, but woojin can barely think about the chances of it when his head pounds with every step. honestly, he’s not sure how much longer he can go on. as athletic as he might be, the stranger is quick on his feet and seems to never run out of energy. that’s when woojin sees an opportunity and-

“got you!” woojin wheezes and proceeds to throw himself into the stranger. they both slam into the ground,  _ hard _ , the air crushed out of their lungs as they fall into a heap of limbs and curses.

“fuck,” the stranger pants, “i think you just killed me.”

“not yet.” the stranger gives woojin a horrified look, and despite the way his arm burns and his ribs feel uncomfortably tight, woojin laughs. “i told you, i have to ask you some questions first. like,” woojin hesitates, mentally sifting through whatever questions seem important, “what’s your name?”

“my name?” the stranger repeats. woojin nods, only flinching slightly when his head throbs in response. “jihoon.”

“are you lying?”

“no, because i know it doesn’t do you any good. what, like you’re going to figure out my life story because of my first name?”

woojin lets out a reluctant huff: while he knows that “jihoon” has a point, he’s nothing if not stubborn and impatient.

“i know i’m not really in a position to ask, but do you mind getting off of me? your elbow’s kind of digging into my arm.” jihoon forces a tentative smile, and woojin chances a glance down to notice that oh yeah, he is sort of pinning jihoon down rather uncomfortably. he shifts back, muttering half an apology under his breath as he rocks back to sit on his heels.

“you still have to come with me.” he points out, because there’s no way he’s letting this guy sweet talk his way out of the castle, no matter how many times he smiles at him. “i need to ask you a  _ lot _ more questions.” jihoon nods along, smiling more brightly now, as he scoots forward to sit with his legs folded in front of woojin.

“go for it.”

the openness in which jihoon stares back at him is a little off-putting to say the least; woojin clears his throat, suddenly nervous, and fights the urge to laugh out of sheer awkwardness. he takes a moment to try to focus on something other than jihoon, using his time to pretend to consider questions while he stops his mind from wandering- now that he thinks about it, his back aches from when he body-slammed jihoon into the ground, and he winces when he rolls his shoulders in a tentative stretch.

“okay,” woojin starts off, abruptly wishing that he had spent a few of those seconds actually thinking about questions, “why exactly are you here? what were you doing when i found you? what were you planning on doing?”

“one at a time would be easier.” jihoon pouts, but he’s still smiling. “i’m here on a job appointment, and i was trying to check out the area without seeming too suspicious. that part was hard though, i’m not used to people asking questions.” he blinks at woojin, bright as ever, “what was the last question?”

“uh.”

“uh? that’s a good question.” jihoon’s clearly laughing  _ at  _ him, and for some reason it makes woojin’s chest hurt at the idea. he’s not stupid, and even at his less spectacular moments, being the brunt of someone else’s joke is never fun.

“shut up,” he bites out, “i can’t remember. just- just tell me about your job appointment.”

“sorry, sure. what do you want to know?”

“i mean, what exactly is your job? like what do you do?” woojin tries.

“i’m a personal negotiator.” jihoon says simply. woojin stares back at him, and he briefly wonders if the boy across from him is even speaking the same language. thankfully, jihoon seems to pick up on his confusion, and he sighs once before continuing. “listen, i just kill people and get paid.”

“so, an assassin.” woojin echoes aimlessly, and jihoon gives a reluctant nod. maybe it’s not the best timing, but woojin can’t help but stare at the way jihoon’s bangs fall over his eyes as he moves his head. then, “wait a second, you’re an  _ assassin _ ? who the hell were you trying to assassinate here?” there’s dread, heavy and cold, brewing in the pit of his stomach, and-

“the prince, obviously. he’s months away from the throne and has an  _ insane _ amount of power. some of your neighbors feel threatened, to say the least.”

“you were going to kill daehwi?” woojin spits out. “oh, i’m going to rip your fucking head off.” he lunges forward, fully prepared to obliterate jihoon (as cute as he may be, there’s no trait that could justify him hurting daehwi; the kid’s too young, too sweet, and neither of those words seem to describe jihoon in the slightest) when jihoon scrambles backwards in time, arms raised as he blubbers a  _ wait _ behind trembling arms. it takes him a second, but once woojin blinks the red out of his vision and takes a hesitant step back, he pauses because-

well, jihoon looks  _ terrified _ .

something about knowing that he’s the reason for jihoon’s fear makes woojin’s throat tighten, but he ignores it in favor of waving for jihoon to continue, not trusting himself to speak.

“i wasn’t actually going to kill him!” jihoon inches backwards, and woojin can’t even stop himself from stepping forward, maintaining their distance until jihoon’s back is pressed hard against the wall, hands still raised in front of him. “i just- i was going to check it out, just out of curiosity, but he seems really nice, so i swear i wasn’t going to lay a hand on him.”

“let’s say i believe you,” woojin crouches down, tilting his head in hopes that the slight change in angle forces him to concentrate on the issue instead of the shine in jihoon’s eyes (he doesn’t know how science works, doesn’t know how to stomp down the fluttering in his ribs, simply continuing along and pretending that jihoon’s downturned lips don’t make his motions still), “why are you still here? if you weren’t going to hurt him, what else were you going to do?”

“i didn’t really think that far ahead, i don’t know.” jihoon’s confidence seeps back into his frame bit by bit until he’s shrugging at woojin with a gentle smile. “whoops?”

“well, i can’t just let you walk out of here. and even if i could, i wouldn’t.” woojin points out. “you do know that, right?”

“yeah,” jihoon runs a hand through his hair and woojin has to resist the urge to shove his fist into his mouth, “but i don’t really know what i should do. beg for forgiveness and act as a chef or something? wash the castle’s dishes? i don’t think that would work out.”

“join the guard.” woojin tries. “i mean, you could at least apply. you get room and board, and you don’t have to pay for training or anything.” a pause. “plus, i could show you around. be your mentor or something.”

jihoon’s grin only seems to get bigger, and woojin doesn’t even think twice before grabbing jihoon’s hand and jogging along the winding halls in search of one of the commanding officers. maybe it’s spontaneous and reckless, but those have always been part of who woojin is, so he doesn’t really see the issue.

he spots minhyun heading over to his room, presumably about to take a nap (woojin knows that the older boy had volunteered to take the late shift last night, and probably hadn’t slept in a day or so).

“ah, hyung,” woojin calls out, hand still wrapped tight around jihoon’s wrist, “c’mere a second.” minhyun walks over, bags visible under his eyes but smile still as blinding as ever. “hey, can i train this guy to be an officer?” minhyun leans against the wall and takes a big breath. woojin lets go of jihoon’s hand, wary of any potential lectures.

“and who is he, exactly?”

“he’s an assassin who was supposed to take out daehwi, but he switched sides and wants to help us out by joining our guard.” woojin offers.

“not an assassin, a personal negotiator,” jihoon cuts in, cowering slightly when minhyun glares at him, “but yeah, totally willing to help.”

when minhyun turns to raise an eyebrow at woojin, woojin isn’t even prepared for the skepticism and disappointment drenching the other boy’s expression. at times like this, it’s hard to remember just how similar they are both in rank and personality; minhyun carries an authority with him in his every step, while woojin is used to sprinting past corridors without even considering what he leaves behind. he’d never thought it was a bad thing before, but with jihoon shifting to stand further behind him and minhyun crossing his arms over his chest, woojin wishes he had done something years ago so that he wouldn’t have to ask for someone else’s permission now.

“if we’re keeping this guy around, he’s going to be your responsibility. anything he does goes back to you.” minhyun speaks slowly, like he’s hand-picking each of his words with the fear that the wrong choice could get them all killed. honestly, that’s not entire untrue- given jihoon’s history (aka the fact that he was literally moments away from murdering daehwi a few minutes ago), even letting him stay unchained is a future regret in the making.

woojin nods, stiff and suddenly careful, and minhyun sighs. he waves a hand in the air before turning around and making his way back to his chamber; it’s the only sign woojin needs to heave out a breath in relief.

“alright, you’re good. you’re going to have to start training, though.”

jihoon looks absolutely  _ ecstatic _ at that, shining up at woojin like he’s never been more happy in his life.

“sounds perfect.”

once all of the forms and agreements are signed on, jihoon passing by each application phase with flying colors (save for his previous job experience, but everyone has a flaw, right?), woojin found that the training ordeal starts achingly slowly.

a few weeks finds jihoon stopping by and joining woojin for his morning patrols, humming songs over woojin’s shoulder with his arms wrapped tight around the younger boy’s waist, almost oblivious to the way that woojin nearly falls off the horse whenever jihoon presses his cheek against woojin’s back.

somehow, that turns into jihoon taking the reigns and woojin explaining directions and rules from behind, grateful that the change in seating lets jihoon experience riding up front and woojin to be able to hide his flushed face whenever jihoon beams his gratitude back to him.

for the most part, their patrols are surrounded by silence and the distant sounds of rushing wind or careful water, and the only times that either of them speak up are when jihoon asks a question or woojin points out something along the route.

woojin himself rarely interrupts the quiet, too comfortable in the familiar unfamiliarity of nihility to breach it himself, but his mind has been racing a mile a minute for the past few weeks simply because of the way jihoon looks when he smiles. it’s only a matter of time until one day, in the midst of the sunrise and the crickets and the sound of jihoon murmuring praises to the horse, woojin thinks,  _ fuck it _ .

“i do.” he speaks up. jihoon jerks back to blink at him, confusion and alarm painted over his eyes.

“what? we’re not getting married, right?” it’s supposed to be a joke, but woojin’s fingers keep fidgeting with the stitching on his gloves and he’s really,  _ really _ not in the mood for jokes. “woojin?”

“keep your eyes front.” woojin snaps. he knows it comes out more angry than he meant, but he’s unbearably irritable and frustrated at himself and his own awkwardness (and unreasonable fondness), so he takes it out on jihoon instead. it’s not fair in the slightest, and it only makes woojin’s gut twist further. “i do think you’re pretty.” he amends, mostly because he hopes the compliment is enough to make it up to jihoon. if the way the older boy keeps his jaw set is any indication, it’s not.

(woojin stares at jihoon’s profile, mesmerized, wondering what the fuck he did to get to this point if he’s only going to ruin it.)

“thanks.” jihoon says finally, and it’s so painfully forced that woojin digs his nails into his palm before even starting to try and think of a response.

“i would marry you.”

“because you think i’m pretty?” jihoon’s laugh is hollow, and the sound grates against woojin’s chest as they slow down along the river. he doesn’t understand a fraction of the thoughts flickering through jihoon’s head, but he wants so desperately to that he’s willing to keep digging himself into a grave if it means he gets a shot at understanding.

“because i think you’re a good person,” woojin admits, “and you make me better.” he can’t really come up with anything better to say, throat still stuck on the idea that maybe he’s already confessed too much. jihoon’s shoulders are still unbearably tense; it can’t be blamed on the horse, not when they’re already so far out and jihoon picks up tasks with all the ease in the world, and for some reason the sight alone is enough to tear woojin’s chest back open  _ just _ enough. “even though you’re like, a murderer, you’re really good. just- i don’t know, everything about you is good. you’re a good person and a good friend, and i think you’d be a good husband, too.”

his cheeks are burning, and woojin is embarrassingly tempted to throw himself into the river or try and convince the horse to run him over and break his rib or something. whatever would be dramatic enough to warrant an actual, genuine acknowledgment from jihoon, really. then, finally,

“park woojin, if i didn’t know you any better, i’d think that was a proposal..” jihoon’s response is quiet, but the chuckle in his words has a warmth to them that woojin has been freezing for for what feels like a lifetime.

“maybe another day.” it’s supposed to come across as a joke, offhanded and lighthearted and casual, but his voice is too serious, and jihoon glances over his shoulder to stare back at woojin. even with his face heating up, woojin stares right back, because for whatever odd reason, he means it- there’s no one that he’d rather end up with.

there’s a brief silence, uncomfortable and jagged as they turn back towards the castle. woojin wishes that, above all else, he could figure out the right things to say to jihoon.

“are you flirting with me?” jihoon asks quietly.

he looks gorgeous, the setting sun filtering lights over his hair and making him glow against the dimming sky, and woojin can feel the way his fingers curl against his pants, terrified and unsure.

“no,” he grits out, “turn around.” he keeps his head down, only just missing the way jihoon’s expression falters. woojin can’t deal with this, not when his job requires him to stay focused and calm instead of hyperventilating over pretty boys and their finger-curling comments.

the rest of the ride is silent, as are each of the rides afterwards.

their other training sessions are even more tense than before, words and hands equally distant from one another.

“i keep telling you, that’s the easiest way to break your finger.” woojin grumbles, swiping the sweat out of his eyes as he stomps his way over to jihoon. they’ve been at it for what feels like hours, going over proper form and stances. despite jihoon’s previous job, it’s become more and more clear that he relied more on planning and weaponry than hand-to-hand combat or defense. woojin grabs the older boy’s hand, maybe a little more forcefully than needed, and rearranges his fingers into a tight fist. “there.”

even with all of the edges and aggression surrounding his movements, the moment jihoon blinks back at him, woojin can feel his chest start to hurt again, and no,  _ no _ .

he stumbles back, mumbling a half-hearted apology while his feet manage to carry him as far away as he can. when he chances a glance over his shoulder and sees jihoon’s figure slump, part of him aches to run back to him under the pretense of helping him ‘fix his form’, but the rest of him hasn’t finished building its walls- and so he heads to the opposite side of the castle and wonders why his heartbeat refuses to calm down.

the rest of their interactions are scarce; woojin can’t help but backtrack whenever he hears jihoon’s voice around the hallways or sees his shadow from across the courtyard.

woojin even manages to convince seongwoo and daniel to help train jihoon instead, feigning excuses over illnesses or different priorities. he knows that his friends don’t believe a word of his lies, but they don’t push the subject, so woojin is let off the hook.

it’s not until the older boys demand woojin return to his original duties that he finds himself sitting across from jihoon again for the first time in weeks, red-faced and indescribably nervous.

“so,” jihoon scratches at the back of his neck, and woojin  _ hates _ the fact that he makes jihoon nervous, hates that he’s given him any reason to have any doubts or worries whatsoever, “what’s been going on with you? what have you been up to?”

“you scare me.” woojin coughs out in lieu of a proper response. it’s even more embarrassing to hear it out loud, but jihoon’s smiling and somehow that makes woojin even more flustered.

“you scare me, too,” jihoon laughs awkwardly, “you can be a little intimidating sometimes.”

“no, i mean-” he clears his throat, too caught up in the words shaking past his lips to look jihoon in the eye, “not like that. you’ve kind of ruined everything for me, you know?” he chances a glance back, hesitating when jihoon’s steady smile refuses to meet his eyes, a circuit cut by the corners of his cheeks. “no, wait, that’s not what i’m trying to say. fuck, i don’t know. i was just supposed to stay in the guard and serve there for my entire life, but then you came in and made me feel ridiculous when you’re just some guy, but i keep feeling like you’re  _ not _ , and i don’t understand anything i’m even saying right now. i really like you, i guess, and i don’t even know why. sometimes you’re selfish and stupid, but for some reason, you still make me feel a lot of things that i never really wanted to feel. i wish those emotions would all just disappear but that would mean not being near you or not thinking about you, and every time i try that, the entire world seems so much worse. nothing i’m saying is even making sense, but i’m so fucking tired of pretending like i don’t care. i care so much even though you’ve turned everything i believed in upside down.”

if he thought that he were embarrassed earlier, that’s nothing compared to the mortification of watching jihoon’s jaw literally  _ drop _ . woojin hadn’t intended to give a half-assed speech straight from some sort of rom-com, and yet all he can do is stare back at jihoon and try and accept the fact that he’s a walking tv trope.

“um.” jihoon whispers, “i don’t really know what to say.”

“me neither.” woojin grumbles, bringing the collar of his sweater up to cover his face. jihoon reaches forward, steady and tentative, and his hand tugs gently at woojin’s shirt. woojin can only mumble incoherently in response, staring resolutely at the ground while jihoon laughs quietly. it sounds more light now, more real and warm, and it suddenly makes everything feel so much more worth it.

“that was a little lame, but you make me feel a lot of things too. some of them are bad, like when you ignore me for weeks,” cue a pointed look that makes woojin wince even without fully meeting jihoon’s eyes, “but i like you.” woojin snaps his head up, brain short circuiting as jihoon cackles at his reaction. “whoa, chill, it was pretty obvious. you were the jerk who kept running away whenever i tried to get closer to you.” he has a point, woojin will admit that much, but he still can’t help pouting back.

jihoon leans forward, slow and careful, and picks up one of woojin’s hands. jihoon’s own are soft, firm, a wonderful contradiction of support that woojin’s never felt before.

that’s when jihoon presses a gentle kiss to the back of woojin’s hand, and woojin only has time to think,  _ holy shit _ , before he passes out.

being dragged into the hospital wing is by no means a glamorous entrance, but it’s one done with jihoon by his side, so woojin later decides that it’s perfect enough.


End file.
